Runaway Train
by Lily White
Summary: "Wrong way on a one-way track..." On his fifteenth birthday, Harry recieves a glimpse into what life could have been like, the person he would have become, and the love that should have been his- had his parents survived that fateful night so long ago. ra
1. Happy Birthday to You

A/N: I know that this chapter is vague and doesn't really explain anything. I just wanted to set up a context for the rest of the story. I'll explain more in the next chapter, possibly with a short rundown in the Author's Note, just because I feel this story might get confusing to someone reading it. I mean, it sounded fine in my head, but…..I'll be quiet now. Enjoy (I hope!)

N.B. Runaway Train is rated PG-13 for language and thematic elements

Harry Potter awoke with a start, sweat dripping off his forehead and into his eyes. His scar was burning in his skull, the pain combining with the darkness of his room to make him temporarily blind. He fumbled on the nightstand, his hands groping trying to find his glasses. He found them in a minute and put them on, the pain in his forehead abating as he slowly came fully awake. Another nightmare. 

Ever since the end of his fourth year, Harry couldn't get a decent night's sleep. His fears of Sirius being caught coupled with the images of his parents materializing out of smoke in front of him were too much…every night there was another horrific nightmare, every night another dream in which Cedric died and he, Harry, couldn't do anything about it. But even worse than the nightmares was the guilt. Harry was ridden with the guilt of knowing that it was, at least in part, his own fault that Voldemort was back. It was his blood that had brought the evil sorceror out of retirement, so to speak.

Harry sighed and turned over in bed to face his window. He was looking for Hedwig; she'd been missing for over a week now, and Harry was beginning to get worried. He rolled onto his stomach and wondered, when had he ever _not_ been worried?

When Harry was little, he worried about Dudley: Dudley teasing him, Dudley getting him into trouble with Uncle Vernon, Dudley sticking his head in the toilet….Then Harry was accepted into Hogwarts and his bratty cousin became the least of his worries. When Harry was eleven, he worried about Voldemort trying to steal the sorceror's stone…When he was twelve, he worried about weird hissing noises coming from the walls of the school…When he was thirteen, he worried about Sirius Black coming to kill him. Now that he was fourteen (almost fifteen) he worried about Sirius _being_ killed by the Ministry of Magic. Harry paused to consider the irony in that, then went back to worrying, chewing on his lower lip.

Two hours later, he was still awake, still worried, and getting more and more anxious about where on earth his owl could be. It wasn't like her to take off for this long at a time. By then the sky was beginning to lighten from pitch black to gray, the stars slowly winking out one by one. Harry knew that the sun would be up soon. Just then he heard a soft tapping at his window. He turned his head and gave a small sigh of relief; it was Hedwig. He let her in, not noticing the envelope tied to her leg as he stroked her back and then left to go fill her water dish with water from the bathroom down the hall. When he came back she was perched on his pillow at the head of his bed, her head cocked to one side and her leg held out. Harry relieved Hedwig of her burden and only then would the bird fly to her cage and take a deep drink of water.

While his owl was busy guzzling, Harry opened the envelope to find a very short note:

Harry-

I'm coming back, there's something I need to tell you. Meet me tomorrow night at midnight, in the Dursley's backyard. 

"Snuffles"

Harry wondered what could possibly be so important that Sirius would risk coming back to England. By now, the sun was completely risen in the sky and Harry could hear sounds of movement coming from Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's bedroom. Dudley, of course, slept in during the summer holidays, and so wouldn't be up for hours. Harry wondered again why Sirius would risk meeting him…he also wondered what horrible news he would be receiving (because was there ever an emergency that constituted _good _news?) at midnight tomorrow night- the exact moment that he, Harry Potter, turned fifteen.

The next night, Harry had a hard time staying awake until midnight, what with his having gotten about two hours of sleep the previous night. His eyelids started to droop around 10 o'clock and from then on it was a constant battle not to slip off into dream land. _I'll just close my eyes for a few minutes…._,he thought to himself.

Two hours later Harry received a rude awakening; Hed wig was perched on his pillow, just above his head, and was nipping at his ear. Harry's head jerked upwards, his eyes flying to the clock on his nightstand. 12:07. 

Chiding himself for falling asleep, Harry stumbled out of bed, got dressed, and quietly slipped out of his bedroom and down the stairs to the front door. He managed to escape the house without any of the Dursleys awakening, then ran for the backyard.

He found a big, black dog pacing back and forth across the lawn. Sirius transformed as soon as he saw Harry, and after a rather strained greeting, the two sat down on the grass.

"What is it you have to tell me?" Harry asked, his face a mask of anxiety.

"Well, its not so much somehing that can be explained in words…I had been planning on showing you this when you graduated Hogwarts, but, well, things change…" Sirius replied. Harry got even more worried at this statement, for Sirius' tone had been one of urgency and, even more unnerving, sadness. Yes, Harry could sense a terrible sadness in his godfather. The man looked bedraggled once more, his face covered with stubble and his clothes worn and faded. Of course, his appearance could have been attributed to the fact that he was still on the run from the Ministry of Magic, but Harry knew deep down that Sirius had become run down by some emotional burden, rather than physical strain.

"Okay, so show me then," said Harry.

"Alright. I assume you've seen one of these?" Sirius asked, pulling a pensieve out from under one of the lilac bushes in the Dursley's backyard. 

"Yeah, in Professor Dumbledore's office. They show thoughts, memories…" Harry replied, wondering where this was going.

"Not just that. They can act as windows…windows into what could have been. Let me explain," Sirius said, seeing Harry opening his mouth to interrupt. "Think about it. What would have happened if your parents had never met? You wouldn't be here, Voldemort would most likely have taken over the entire magical world, I'd still be a free man…all of these things would have happened- or wouldn't have happened, depending on how you look at it- if James hadn't crashed into Lily that day in Diagon Alley before school started. She dropped all of her books and he helped her pick them up. They probably would never have spoken otherwise; she was in Ravenclaw, and one year behind James, who was in Gryffindor with me. So, do you see how one event can affect many other events down the line?" Harry nodded. "Okay, well, a pensieve like this one can be enchanted to show all of these "what-if"'s. That's what I wanted to show you." 

As Sirius spoke, the silver gray fog in the pensieve began to swirl. Harry looked into it and saw a montage of faces: his mother, his father, Sirius, Draco Malfoy, Harry himself, a baby crying, Ron, Hermione….

"Okay, what event didn't happen in what you're showing me?" Harry asked, finally understanding. 

"I am going to show you what would have been if your parents were alive today," Sirius said, his face now markedly sad. "Happy fifteenth birthday, by the way."****


	2. Just Another Girl

A/N: Okay, my turn to do a little explaining. How this story will work is, every chapter will be a new scene that Harry observes with Sirius through the pensieve. They will all be told from Hunter's point of view, as I want her to be the main character in this story. I hope I helped to make it easier to understand and therefore a better read. If there's anything I should be doing differently, please tell me. Thanks.

The fog in the pensieve swirled again, drawing Harry's attention from his godfather's face with it's milky light. A girl's face filled the bowl, with dark eyes and a wide mouth. Harry was confused.

"But…where are my parents? You said-"

"I did not say that this had anything to do with James and Lily," Sirius interrupted. "This is your story…or rather, hers," he said gesturing to the girl. He gripped Harry's hand, drawing it into the swirling fog of the pensieve. Then the two found themselves inside of an immense stone room with high ceilings and a massive fireplace in the corner. The girl sat cross-legged on a bed next to a window on the far left of the room. She was writing something…

I think I've realized why writing doesn't satisfy me. I think I have it all figured out now. I don't get any real pleasure from writing because I don't want to be an author, pulling the strings in the background. No, I want more. I want to be the heroine in a fairy tale, the princess wisked to the highest room in the tallest tower and kept there by a fiery dragon. I want to be the troubled teen who overcomes depression, a pregnancy, drugs, whatever. I want to be the one falling in love for the first time, the one experiencing the rush of her first kiss. I will never be satisfied with being the director of my fantasies-I want to be the main character.I guess that's why I can't ever finish-

_ _

Hunter shut her diary, having been interrupted by a sudden banging on her door. It was an insistent banging, telling her that it wasn't her mother (who always tapped gently and asked politely if she could come in) or her father (who seldom knocked at all) but her brother entreating entrance to her bedroom. She sighed, dissapointment etched on her face as she sat upright on her bed.

"What is it?" she called, her voice dripping with exasperation. Hunter hated to be interrupted when she was writing in her journal…or listening to music…or practicing her guitar…actually, Hunter rather resented any attempt on the part of her family to get her to leave the safety of her bedroom, or, God forbid, to enter her sanctuary. 

"Let me in, and I'll tell you!" came the impatient voice of her brother.

"Fine," Hunter called. "Its not like the door's locked anyways; you could have come in without all the banging and shouting."

"But that would have taken all the fun out of it," said her brother as he sauntered into her room, a small smirk on his face and his hands behind his back. The look on his face clearly said that he knew something she didn't, peaking Hunter's interest as she strained her neck trying to catch a glimpse of what he was hiding. The grin playing on his lips was maddening, the twinkle in his gray eyes enough to drive her insane. She hated how he always seemed to have the upper hand over her, and just now when she had been in the middle of an epiphany, his games did not amuse her. 

"Draco, just tell me what's up. Or better yet, show me what you're hiding. If you're just going to stand there and grin all day, I can move to another room," she said, returning her journal to its proper place underneath her mattress. Draco merely plunked himself down onto the foot of her bed, the smirk still present on his face. 

"I have a present for you," he drawled. "It just came in the mail."

"Is it...?" Hunter breathed, feeling her pulse quicken. Could it be that the letter she'd waited so long for had finally arrived?

"Yep, and I thought I'd deliver it to you myself, in person. Congratulations are in order," he replied, handing her a think envelope with her name scrawled across the front in emerald green ink. "Mom's in floods down in the kitchen, saying how her little babies are all grown up now. I told Dobby to slip a Valium into her tea, though, so she should be okay. She's going to be awfully lonely with both of us at Hogwarts this year, but at least you won't have to be all by yourself in this house. And I'll get to keep an eye on my baby sister, which is a plus. Well, don't just sit there! Open it up!" he commanded.

Hunter slowly opened the envelope, then dumped its contents onto the bed. She picked up the letter of admission, from Professor McGonagall herself, and read her name at the top: _Hunter Artemis Malfoy_

After shooing her brother out of her room, Hunter had read and re-read her acceptance letter from Hogwarts, looking over the list of books she would need and wondering whether her parents would buy her an owl, like they had done for Draco. They had given him a beautiful eagle owl, which he'd named Pluto. Pluto was gorgeous, but a bit of a pain in the neck as he was always flying round the house and nipping at unsuspecting people's ears- namely, Hunter's. She wandered off into dreamland, pondering what kind of owl she'd like, and what she'd name it, then settled down to record the arrival of the momentous letter in her journal. 

It came! I don't know why I was so surprised to see my letter from Hogwarts, why I had to double check just to make sure it was really addressed to me. My name's probably been down since I was born, but still I feel like I've just won a raffle or something. I start my fist year at Hogwarts on September the first, and I absolutely cannot wait. I'll get to be with Draco, which is great. He went off to school last year and left me all alone with Mother and Father. He came home at Christmas filled with stories about how him and a bunch of his friends set three dozen frogs loose in a girls' lavatory, and how he couldn't wait to join the Slytherin house Quidditch team. His grades were perfect, too. I can only hope to measure up when my turn comes to present my end of term marks to Father…but other than that, Hogwarts is going to be perfect and lovely and just absolutely wonderful, I'm sure of it.

The following week passed in a blur. Hunter and Draco busied themselves with packing, then went into London with their mother the day before they were to leave for Hogwarts. When the three reached Diagon Alley, Draco went off with a few of his Slytherin friends to look at racing brooms in Quality Quidditch Supplies, Mrs. Malfoy calling after him to meet them in Flourish and Blotts in an hour. Hunter needed to be fitted for her black Hogwarts robes and to buy ingredients for her potion-making kit. She already had a wand and a cauldron. 

After finishing these errands, Mrs. Malfoy told Hunter she had to pick a few things up in Knockturn Alley for Lucius and left her with enough money to get an ice cream. Hunter wasn't hungry, and decided to wander around for a bit, just taking in the sights around her. Of course she'd been to Diagon Alley before, but she loved watching the people going about their business. She saw two little old ladies sharing an enormous sundae at Florean Fortesques, and a young couple, no older than twenty, holding hands as they made their way through the crowd. Hunter kept her eyes on the couple, following a few steps behind them, staying on the other side of the street so as not to be seen. She watched them pause outside of Madame Malkin's, watched them exchange one little kiss. Hunter kept walking straight, not really looking where she was going until-

"Ow!" came a strange voice, jarring Hunter out of her trance. She looked to see who it was she'd run into, and was greeted with a pair of bright green eyes, framed by thick glasses. The boy bent down to gather his packages, now laying at his feet in disgruntled piles. When he had picked them all up and righted himself, Hunter saw that he was pretty tall (taller than her 5' 4" at least) and had messy black hair. 

"I am so sorry," she said, her cheeks turning red with embarassment. "I didn't see you."

"Its okay," the boy replied, a smile slowly replacing the grimace on his face. "I don't think anything's broken. Ugh, then again…" he trailed off, noticing the jet black ink that was rapidly leaking out of the corner of one of his packages and running down the leg of his jeans. "Must have been the ink bottle that got smashed," he said, after wiping off his pants as best he could. 

"Oh, I feel terrible. I wasn't looking where I was going and-"

The boy shook his head, the smile still on his face. "Don't even worry about it," he said. Then he shifted his parcels, rather difficultly, and stuck out his hand, saying "I'm Harry, by the way. Harry Potter."

Hunter reached out and shook the boy's hand, her cheeks still flushed. "I'm Hunter Malfoy," she replied.

"Oh, I know your brother. He's in my Potions class at Hogwarts," Harry said.

"So you're going to be a second year?" Hunter asked, trying to make conversation. This boy was nice, and she really was sorry for having practically run him over.

"Yeah," he answered. "What about you, do you go to school?"

"I'm just starting at Hogwarts this year," Hunter replied. Then she realized how long they'd been talking and glanced down at her watch. Damn, she was late to meet Mother and Draco at Flourish and Blotts! "I have to go now, but I guess I'll be seeing you again soon," she said, smiling.

"I guess so," said Harry, waving to her as she turned and walked down the street toward the book shop. 

Later on that night, after Hunter had eaten her last dinner in the dining room at Malfoy Manor for a long time, she walked around her room, saying goodbye to everything from her stuffed animals to the dust bunnies hiding underneath her bed.

Hunter loved her room, from the high windows with their white linen drapes to her canopy bed with its white down comforter. Her room had high ceilings and walls made of stone, just like the rest of the manor. But, unlike the rest of her house, Hunter's room was not intimidating. The walls were covered with bookshelves, all painted different and odd colors. Some were short, some tall-some even reached up to the ceiling, and it was for this reason that the young Hunter possessed a ladder, which was at the moment leaning against her closet door. The floor was stone, strewn about with odd rugs and dirty clothes. There was a massive fireplace in the corner, with a large leather armchair in front of it. 

Resting in the chair was Hunter's cat, a patchy calico named Scout for one of the characters in Hunter's favorite book, _To Kill a Mockingbird._ Scout was purring loudly, arching his back and stretching out his front legs. Hunter hadn't gotten an owl to take to school; her parents had said that Pluto could carry mail for both her and her brother. Instead, they had given her permission to take Scout to Hogwarts, so Hunter guessed she had no reason to complain.Her cat was her best confidante; he always listened and he had this way of cocking his head and twitching his tail that made Hunter think he almost understood her. 

"Its too bad we can't take all of them, Scout," she said now, gesturing to all of the books on her shelves. "But Mother was firm; I can only take two trunks. My school supplies alone will take a whole trunk! So, I have to choose…" Hunter trailed off as she continued her slow march around her room, running her finger over the spines of her many novels. She had read them all, most twice. She loved her books, especially the Muggle fantasies. Somehow they managed to make magic so much more, well, _magical _than it actually was. 

Draco had once told her, in a fit of brotherly concern and affection, that people who did nothing but read usually did so to escape reality. He told her about this girl in Gryffindor in his year at Hogwarts who always had about twenty books slung over her shoulders and was always reading, even at meal times. Draco said it was because she didn't really have any friends, so she lived her life through books. Then he had looked into Hunter's eyes and asked if she understood what he was saying. Hunter had thought he was being unnecessarily patronizing at the time; after all, he was only one year older than she was, and besides, she wasn't stupid! Then she realized that he was saying that she, Hunter, used her books as an escape. Well, maybe he was right. But Hunter also considered herself to be a writer, and wasn't that a way of _embracing_ reality? Oh well, she wouldn't worry about it now. 

Hunter paused in her walk around her bedroom in front of her dresser. She lifted her eyes to the mirror above it and looked critically at her reflection. Average height, medium build. She had dark brown hair, curly and thick. Her hair was the bane of her existence until she hit age ten. Then she started straightening it with a simple little spell. And so, the hair she saw in the mirror was shiny and sleek, falling to just above her shoulder blades. She had bangs cut in a fringe across her forehead; they were in need of a trim now, as they were falling into her eyes. Hunter had big eyes, big brown eyes so dark they were almost black. Draco used to tease her when they were younger that she looked like a bug. Hunter smiled at the memory, continuing to gaze at her reflection. She had a big nose. There was a bump in it, and she thought to herself that she looked as though someone had slammed her nose in a door. Oh well, she knew what she looked like. 

With that thought, she bent down and pulled a soft nightgown-her favorite- out of the top dresser drawer and started to change. She noticed as she took off her clothes that she had gotten a great tan over the summer, unlike her brother. If Draco was out in the sun for ten minutes, he turned as red as a lobster, his skin was so pale. Hunter chuckled and hopped into bed, leaving the dirty clothes she had just taken off on the floor in a heap. She stroked Scout's back for a while, then gave him a little kiss on his nose and turned off the light. Tomorrow was a busy day. 

Harry was still confused. Draco had a sister? And she was nice to Harry? His face a mask of puzzlement, he turned to Sirius.

"What does she have to do with my parents being alive?" he asked.

"All in due time. The story's not nearly over." Sirius replied. Harry was surprised to see that his godfather's face now carried an even heavier air of sadness, despite the smile playing on his lips. It was his eyes. They were downcast and dull, like they had been right after Sirius had escaped from Azkaban. 

"Okay then. I want to see where this is going," Harry said.


End file.
